


When You Smile at Me (I Want to Step in Front of Buses (In a Good Way))

by someonenotchloe



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Drawing Classes, F/M, Fluff, Pining, Scientist Wrangling, Secret-Keeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonenotchloe/pseuds/someonenotchloe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out the gorgeous, out-of-her-league, guy in Darcy's art class is keeping an even bigger secret than Darcy is. She still totally wants to jump him, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Smile at Me (I Want to Step in Front of Buses (In a Good Way))

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mjravensgate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjravensgate/gifts).



> Title from A Softer World

**When You Smile At Me (I Want to Step in Front of Buses (In a Good Way))**

After Darcy Lewis, previously God Taser-er, previously Astrophysics Intern, previously Poli-Sci Major, arrives in New York in her new position as SHIELD-Sponsored Scientist Support Staff (which is beautifully alliterative, by the way), she decides that what she really wants to do is finish her degree. After checking up on her little flock of scientists, all of whom she is keeping fed and watered, Darcy wanders off to bother Phil Coulson.

“Hey, G-Man,” she says, sitting in front of Phil’s desk and tucking her feet onto her chair.

“Miss Lewis,” he says, not looking away from whatever he is typing on his computer.

“What are you doing?” she asks, very casually.

“Waiting for you to tell me why you’re here,” he says, matching her tone exactly.

“What, I can’t just say hi?”

“No,” he says. “You’re too busy making sure your people don’t blow up the lab.”

“Okay, that is true,” she says. “You got me. I want to ask something.”

“Go ahead,” he says, finally ceasing with the typing and turning to look at her.

“So, you know how I was kind of almost done with my degree and then I kind of tased Thor and then everything just sort of spiraled out of control from there and now I’m a glorified nerd wrangler?”

He blinks. “Yes.”

“Well, I was kind of hoping I could finish my degree.” He just looks at her. “I mean, like, I don’t want to lose my job, nerd wrangling is a sweet gig, but I would also like to at least have a Bachelor’s, you know? I work with all these people with like six PhDs and it’s just always embarrassing to be like ‘oh, you know, I dropped out of college to join a secret government agency.’” She pauses. “So yeah. Like. That’d be… great.”

“Would you be looking at schools in New York?” he asks.

“Um… yes?”

“Anywhere in particular?”

“Um… not really?”

“Alright,” he says, turning back to his computer. “I’ll send you the applications for a few schools in the area from whom we respect degrees. Fill them out and give them back to me. I’ll handle the rest of it.”

“Um,” she says. “Okay.”

He looks at her. “Is there anything else?”

“Um.” She blinks. “No.”

“Good,” he says, turning back to his computer once more. “Now get out of my office.”

Approximately five weeks later, Phil has performed some sort of voodoo magic and she is starting fall quarter at NYU. She’s sort of stunned by the whole thing, to be honest, but she decides to just be thankful for whatever blessings god – or SHIELD – has bestowed upon her. She slings her backpack over one shoulder and heads to her first class. She’d wanted to get right back to all political science all the time, but apparently NYU requires a little more diversity than her school in New Mexico, and she’s only taking one political science class, and it’s not the one she’s about to walk into. Feeling a small bubble of nervousness – the one she gets whenever she’s starting in a new place – but entirely ignoring it, she pushes open the door to her classroom. She finds a seat quickly, not looking any of her classmates directly in the eye.

“Life Drawing,” she grumps to herself quietly. “Why do I have to take life drawing?”

“You never know,” says a quiet, deeply sexy voice to her left. “You might like it.”

She looks over. Smiling at her charmingly, but not in a way that says I’m-hitting-on-you-can-you-tell, is a tall, blonde, broad-shouldered hunk of gorgeousity. Darcy’s pretty sure that’s maybe not actually a word, but whatever. It’s applicable. “I dunno,” she says, swallowing and pretending there is no part of her that wants to jump him right then and there. “I was never that into art. Or, like, naked old people.”

He blushes. “You get used to it.” Darcy has never seen a guy that hot blush like a schoolboy before, but she decides she likes it. Then he frowns. “You don’t like art?”

“No,” she says. “I mean, I like art. I’m just not really any good at it.”

“Oh,” he says, looking a lot less like a kicked puppy. “Well, that’s just a matter of practice.” He smiles at her. “I can give you some pointers, if you want. I mean, I’m not that great myself, but…”

“No,” she says, smiling at him, and if the smile holds a little bit of flirting no one anywhere could blame her. “I’d like that. Thanks.” She looks him over once more, observing the jeans, tight on his muscular thighs, and the way his t-shirt clings to his broad chest and the place where his waist tapers down to his hips. She swallows. “I’m Darcy, by the way,” she says. To herself, she says, _Be cool, Darcy._

“Steve,” he says, holding out a hand. He has great hands. “Steve Rogers.”

Steve, of course, is absolutely amazing at drawing, even at drawing naked old people. Although admittedly that’s not the only kind of naked people they draw. But still. He does give her tips, and tips become tips and coffee, and tips and coffee becomes Steve and Darcy in the park, Steve drawing random passersby and trying to get Darcy to do the same.

“You just have to take a good look at someone,” says Steve, spotting his quarry. He starts sketching a young business professional, some slightly schmucky guy with carefully styled hair and a briefcase. “And sort of get a feel for their face. Does their nose angle up or down? What shape are their eyes? Their cheekbones?”

“Right,” says Darcy, doodling eyes on her sketchbook, which rests on her knees.

“Then you try to capture some of those basic ideas to paper. You don’t have to be perfect. Then you rough out the shape of their body and the clothes they’re wearing. That’s the key thing. Get something down to remind yourself, because you don’t have much time and you’ll forget fast.”

“Uh huh,” says Darcy, drawing a careful eyelash.

“Then when they’re gone, you can fill it in, perfect the details,” says Steve, who is drawing the lapels of his business pro’s suit.

“Okay,” says Darcy, shading the irises.

“Darcy,” says Steve, sounding exasperated but amused. “Are you paying attention?”

“Oh,” she says, looking up from the finished product of her drawing. “No. Sorry. A little.” He looks at her sketch. A pair of beautiful light eyes look back at him. Darcy’s actually quite proud of them. He frowns, and she sighs. “What is it?” she asks. “What crime against art and lighting have I committed this time?”

“Are those…?” he asks, then shakes his head. “Nevermind. Those are really good, Darcy. Come on, let’s practice more, and then I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

“Sounds good to me,” says Darcy. “Teach on, Professor.”

It’s only after Steve’s made her draw pedestrians and bought her a 16oz skinny caramel latte, and she is back at her small apartment going over her sketches, that she realizes what caught Steve’s attention about her first drawing. She flushes a deep red and beats her head against the arm of her couch. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she mutters.

The eyes she has captured so beautifully are, of course, Steve’s.

The next day, when she walks into their art class, Steve is nowhere to be seen. Darcy is deeply disappointed and can’t help but think it is her fault because he has realized she likes him and is freaked out and has run away.

But of course, if he hasn’t already realized she likes him he is immensely stupid and she doesn’t want to date him anymore anyway.

But of course that’s a total lie.

The thing is, is, Darcy’s already noticed Steve is kind of old-fashioned. He blushes a lot and ducks his head and tries really hard to be respectful, and he has some pretty old-fashioned ideas about good and evil and patriotism and shit like that. It’s possible he actually had not noticed she likes him. But she really likes him anyway. She likes the way he tousles his short blond hair, and she likes the way he smiles when she messes it up for him. She likes the way he smiles anyway, this sort of pure, honest, goodness radiating out of his gleaming all-American grin. She likes the serious face he makes when he draws, and how hard he tries to get her to draw better. She really really likes Steve Rogers, basically, and she was kind of hoping he might eventually like her back. Even though, you know, on a scale of one to ten she is maybe an eight, and he makes numbers seem insufficient.

She’s sort of dazed out all through her class, and afterwards she kind of wanders aimlessly. She has a while before her next class – (Physics. She’s trying not to be so lost around Jane &co.) – and she doesn’t really know what to do with herself except worry about Steve and obsess over various parts of his personality and/or physiognomy. So when she spots Steve hurrying over to her, she decides she is imagining it. But then he speaks.

“Darcy.”

“Hey, Steve,” she says, acting casual. “What’s up? Missed you in class today.”

“Darcy, I am so, so sorry.”

She blinks. “Okay. Wait. Back up. One of us is confused.”

He bites his lip. She tries not to find it sexy. “Look, Darcy, there are… a few things I maybe should have… I mean, I couldn’t tell you, but… Look. Basically.” He pauses. “Um.”

“Steve,” she says. “Maybe you should take a deep breath, put down the magazine, and try to actually finish a sentence.”

He looks at the magazine in his hand like he’s never seen it before. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, look. The thing is, when we were at Central Park yesterday, some people saw us, and for reasons I’m getting to, they took pictures of us, and now those pictures are on the cover of this magazine, and I’m very very sorry.”

“There are pictures of us on the cover of a gossip rag?” she asks, nonplussed.

“Yes.”

“Oh. Um. Okay.” She raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“They think we’re… you know…”

“Sleeping together?”

“I was gonna say dating,” he says, blushing faintly. “But yes.”

“And they care because…?” She knows she’s a member of a top-secret government organization, but not a very important member, and anyway, top-secret. So it has to be… “Are you _famous_?” she asks.

She is less surprised he might be famous and more surprised she didn’t recognize him if he is.

He sighs. “Here,” he says, and he hands her the magazine.

CAPTAIN AMERICA CANOODLING WITH COLLEGE CO-ED!

Declares the magazine.

MORE ON PAGE 12!!!

It insists.

HAS AMERICA’S HERO FINALLY FOUND TRUE LOVE, OR IS SHE JUST USING HIM?? FIND OUT INSIDE.

There is a long silence.

“I am curious,” Darcy says, eventually. “How they can claim to know whether I am in love with you or using you when until a minute ago I wasn’t aware we were dating.”

Steve – Captain America, and isn’t that weird? – laughs shakily. “I was kinda wondering about that myself,” he says.

She looks him in the eye. He is still beautiful, and he is still Steve, but it’s like there’s this weird glow of hero worship and college history classes surrounding him now. “Also,” she says seriously. “I take offense to the co-ed descriptor, but I admit that’s some nice alliteration.”

He grins at her tentatively, then goes serious. “Darcy, I am sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth.”

“Don’t worry about it, Steve,” she says. “You couldn’t. Now you can. We’re good. We’ll just have to be more careful meeting in public.” She checks the time. “I have to get to class, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, breathing a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good. I’m glad you’re not angry.”

“Of course I’m not angry,” she says, pulling her backpack strap back over her shoulder and smiling at him. “After all, I haven’t told you the whole truth, either.”

And with a smug grin and a slight bounce in her step, she strolls away from Captain America.

                She doesn’t have class the next day, so she’s working full time keeping her scientists alive. She has a partner, now, some SHIELD Suit-in-training who’s been pulled off his busy schedule of filing and ass-kissing to cover for her, but when she has the time, she still has to be at SHIELD HQ doing what it takes to keep enormously brainy people alive. When she arrives in the lab, Jane actually stops what she’s doing and hugs her.

“Darcy,” she says. “Thank god.”

“Um,” says Darcy, tentatively hugging back. “Okay. Is everything alright? Has something happened?”

But Jane has already let go of her and is digging in Darcy’s backpack, which is still attached to Darcy back. With a triumphant cry, she pulls out the box of strawberry PopTarts Darcy had brought in for the team. Wandering back over to her Science, Jane cradles the PopTart box like an injured child.

“Nice to see you, too, Jane,” she says. “You’re welcome.”

“That idiot Brian keeps buying cinnamon PopTarts,” Jane offers, by way of explanation.

Brian is the SHIELD dude hired to replace Darcy, of course. Darcy had explained to him all of Jane’s food preferences and given him the schedule for keeping the scientists alive and the lab unexploded, but apparently he is not great at taking directions. She doesn’t know if she is supposed to do an evaluation of his skills or anything, but even if she’s not supposed to she probably will. Phil needs to know if there are people on his staff who can’t even tell the difference between strawberry and cinnamon PopTarts.

“That’s awful,” Darcy says. “You need coffee to go with that entire box of PopTarts?”

“I’m not going to eat the entire box,” says Jane defensively. “Ooh. Coffee.”

“Coming up,” says Darcy, chuckling. “Get back to your Science.”

Jane does so, munching absently on a PopTart, while Darcy makes an absolutely ridiculous amount of coffee to take round to all of SHIELD’s Science Guys. She makes Jane’s just the way Jane likes it, forces it into her hand, and then pushes open the door to the lab, a tray of coffee weighing her down. As she steps over the threshold, she walks right into an enormous wall of muscle that smells like soap and boy and other sexy things. She nearly drops the tray of coffee, which would be pretty disastrous for the flooring. Steve catches it.

“Hi,” she says, staring up at him, holding her tray of coffee like a shield.

“Hi,” he says, looking vaguely amused. “Darcy Lewis, Scientific Research Division.”

She sets down the coffee on the bench beside the door, and shuts said door on Jane, who is staring. “I guess now we both know each other’s big secret.”

“I asked Maria if she could run a check on Darcy Lewis, and she said ‘What, you mean Darcy who works in the labs?’”

Darcy laughed. “I mostly work _for_ the labs. My job description involves food, coffee, and making people go home when they’ve been here for forty-eight hours straight.” She pauses. “Also filing. Lots and lots of filing.”

“Did you know the whole time?” he asks.

“That you were Captain America?”

He nods.

“No way, man. That’s way above my paygrade. I’m basically a slave. I’m basically just Jane’s slave, actually.” She pauses. “Wait. Back up. How does Maria Hill know who I am?”

“She said Phil talks about you,” Steve says.

“Awww,” says Darcy, beaming. “That’s so sweet. Does he curse my name to the heavens?”

Steve smiles in spite of himself. “It’s entirely possible.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” he says, grinning. “You can be a little difficult to keep up with.”

She shakes her head. “Come on,” she says. “I’ve got to talk to Phil about not telling me I was hanging out with Captain America.” She grabs his hand and tows him along behind her. His skin is warm and just a little calloused and she very carefully does not think about it.

“Does Phil know we’ve been…hanging out?” Steve asks, allowing himself to be towed.

“Of course,” she says, shooting him a glance. “Phil knows everything.”

“Oh,” says Steve. “Of course.”

When they get to Phil’s office Darcy barges in without knocking. Phil sighs, and says, “I’m sorry, Ambassador, something seems to be demanding my attention unexpectedly. Can I call you back? Oh, no, it’s nothing important, just a minor annoyance. Yes. Thank you. I’ll speak to you soon, Ambassador.”

He hangs up the phone and turns to look at Darcy.

“Hey, Phil,” she says.

“Darcy.” He looks at Steve and blinks rapidly. “Captain.”

“Phil,” says Darcy, lacing her voice with annoyance and flopping into her chair. “Why didn’t you tell me Captain America was in my art class?”

Phil sighs and rubs his temple. “Need to Know, Darcy.”

“Maybe I needed to know that the guy I was hanging out with was a superhero, did you think of that, Phil?”

“Clearly,” says Phil. “Now you do.”

She grins. “True. But you still should’ve told me. Also, what’s this I hear about you talking to the higher-ups about me? Only good things, I hope.”

“Oh,” says Phil, shuffling through some papers on his desk. “Actually, I did want to talk to you about that.” He shoots Steve a slightly less than pleased look. “I was planning on talking to you about it later, but I suppose now works.”

“What is it?” Darcy asks, suddenly worried.

“I was thinking of recommending you for a promotion,” he says, glancing up at her. “If you want the job of course.”

“A promotion?” she says. “I’m not exactly Agent material, here, Phil.”

“Not as an Agent,” he says, handing her a piece of paper from the pile on his desk. “We’re a government agency, and that means bureaucracy. You’re a political science student who already has security clearance and experience dealing with people who can be, let’s say, difficult to handle. In my opinion, you’re a very good candidate for this job.”

She looks at the piece of paper, then back up at Phil. “You want me to be your… secretary?”

“Assistant,” he says. “Liaison, if you prefer.”

“Liaison with who?”

“Everyone,” he says. “SHIELD has a lot of Departments and Divisions, and I handle paperwork from all of them. I need someone to handle the people who do the paperwork.” He looks at her. “What do you think?”

“I don’t even have a Bachelor’s,” she says, stunned.

“You will soon,” he says. “And I’ll take you on then. Think about it, Miss Lewis.” His mouth quirks slightly, and he looks at Steve, then back at her. “I apologize, sincerely, for not breaking about twelve SHIELD Secrecy and Protection protocols so you could avoid having a crush on a superhero.”

“Hey!” says Darcy. She knows she can’t deny it, because Phil knows everything, but she still objects to his tone. And his talking about it in front of Steve.

“Agent Coulson,” says Steve, ducking his head and blushing, and damn is that cute. “Miss Lewis and I aren’t-”

“Don’t bother, Steve,” she says, standing and grabbing his hand again, mostly because she wants to. “He knows we’re not dating, he’s just being mean. Come on, I have scientists to feed.”

She tows him to the door, then glances back at Phil. “Hey, G-Man,” she says.

“Yes, Miss Lewis?” he says, looking back up from his computer.

“Thanks for… you know… believing in me. Or whatever.”

“Miss Lewis,” he says. “I believe that if you were motivated to, and if you spent less time eating ice cream and watching bad sitcoms, you could probably crush New York under one shiny and perfectly stylish heel.”

“Awww,” she coos. “You do like me.”

“Unfortunately,” he says, turning back to his computer. “Yes.” He flicks his eyes to her. “Now get out of my office.”

Darcy is towing Steve down the staircase to the labs when he stops her, tugging on her hand and planting his feet on the landing. “Darcy,” he says.

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him. God, his eyes are pretty.

“I… I want to apologize to you.”

“What for?” she asks.

“I… I didn’t… I could have told you I was Captain America. I am allowed to tell people, as long as SHIELD is sure they’re not… I don’t know, Hydra agents, or something.”

“Hydra?”

“Nevermind,” he says hurriedly. “The point is, I could have told you if I wanted to, but I… didn’t want to. I liked just being… Steve Rogers. I liked that you liked me for who I was.”

“I still like you for who you are, Steve,” she says, squeezing his hand. “I mean, I also like you for all the amazing stuff you’ve done, but that’s not the only reason I like you.”

“I know that,” says Steve. “It’s just… I wanted to… I just can’t help but feel like you’ll treat me differently.”

“Then you don’t know me very well,” she says, grinning. “I don’t impress easy. Remind me to tell you about the time I tased the god of thunder.”

“What?” Steve says, then shakes his head. “No. I meant… I mean… ah, hell,” he says, and he pulls her against him, his hands cup the sides of her face, and he lowers his mouth to hers.

To say Darcy is freaking out inside would be the understatement of the past couple of centuries. She plasters herself against him, hands clutching at his shirt front, fingers pressed against those ridiculous pectorals. He’s kissing her, and he tastes like toothpaste and that cinnamon gum he likes and something indefinably _Steve_ , and yes, she is definitely freaking out now.

“You swore,” she says, pulling away slightly. “I didn’t know you could swear.”

His hands drop to her waist, and he frowns, looking a little dazed. “Of course I can swear. I was in the army. I swear.”

“So you claim,” she says. She kisses him again, her hands tangling in his short blonde hair, which is soft and clean and just a little bit fluffy. This time he pulls back.

“Darcy,” he says. “What I meant was, I don’t want you to go along with this, you know, because of who I am or what I’ve done, or, you know, because-”

“Steve,” she says, kissing him. She likes being allowed to kiss him, so she does it again. “Steve. I’ve been wanting to make out with you basically since I clapped eyes on your stupid, pretty face, and while, of course, your being a hero is very nice and all, it doesn’t really matter to me and can we stop talking about it and go back to kissing?”

“Oh,” says Steve. “Okay.” He kisses her.

They’re standing like that, his hands on her waist, her hands in his hair, kissing each other almost reverently, when a small cough alerts them to the fact that they’re not alone. Darcy looks around, and spots Jane standing a few steps down, smiling blithely up at her, her eyes warning they’re going to have long conversation, preferably one involving flailing and discussion of the relative merits of their hot, blonde, dudes.

“Captain,” she says, acknowledging Steve. “Darcy. Sorry to interrupt, but apparently Brian forgot to get Dr. MacMillan his Sleepytime tea when he went grocery shopping, and the good doctor is currently in the process of testing his transmatter ray on other people’s belongings so he can use it to retrieve said tea from the grocery store.”

Darcy frowns. “Why didn’t he just go to the grocery?”

“It does not appear to have occurred to him,” says Jane with a small smile.

“Shit,” says Darcy. “Okay.” She turns to Steve, whose hands are still resting, almost possessively, on her waist. She decides she likes that, too. “Sorry,” she says. “You have your ways of saving the world, I have mine. I’d better go deal with this.”

“Okay,” says Steve. “I’ll see you though, right?”

“Absolutely,” she says, grinning at him. “Really soon.”

“Good,” says Steve, and he grins at her, and she just about melts. Her heart does something weird, which she ignores.

They stare at each other for a minute, before Jane clears her throat, and Darcy follows her, only a little begrudgingly, down to the labs.

“Tell me everything,” says Jane, when they are definitely out of earshot of Steve.

“Oh, he’s just this guy in my art class,” says Darcy, then, at Jane’s venomous look, “Okay, okay. We’ll talk all about it after we deal with this. For now, let’s just say that things are looking distinctly upwards for Darcy Lewis.” 

And they are.


End file.
